Trust Implicit
by Aural Winter
Summary: Two warriors with burdens insurmountable on their chests. Two warriors with nobody else to trust but each other. Femshep/Garrus. Complete.
1. Chapter 1

This story is _not my fault_! It's that damned girl who lives in my head -- she made me do it!

Honestly, though, I'm not usually big on romance. But I _am _one of those people who gets way too much into good RPGs. After playing through with my female character and romancing Garrus, well... he's just plain perfect for my FemShep. It was only natural that this would make it on paper.

Oh, one last thing. Spoilers all over the damn place! Enjoy!

* * *

Trust Implicit

_Bang_. Erin Shepard was gone.

There had been no flash, no distortion of light. Not even a heat spike on his trusty eyepiece. It had just happened. One moment, she was there, crouching behind a crate with her slightly worn M-92 Mantis Sniper Rifle clutched firmly in her hands. The next, she was gone, like she had never even been there in the first place.

It still surprised Garrus how… completely the cloaking system worked its magic. Even the geth assassins from which Cerberus had adapted the technology left a silhouette, a little slice of air where the light didn't quite _blend_ right, when they went stealth. Not Shepard. She turned on the cloak and she was no longer there. The Cerberus engineers said they had improved upon the technology, but he was of a differing opinion. It wasn't the tech. It was the operator. Erin Shepard was the best damned infiltrator in the galaxy -- if two years ago hadn't proved that, nothing else could. She moved through a battlefield so fast and subtle and bending with the cover and _graceful_ -- Hell! She was practically invisible already when she wanted to be. The stealth cloak fit her like a glove.

Garrus sensed a pause in the gunfire and popped out from behind his cover, instinctively raising his own rifle to eye level. Not fifty meters up was a batarian merc doing one hell of a poor job of using a shipping container as cover -- crouched, body covered, but head _very_ exposed. Rookie mistake.

Fatal mistake.

He slid a finger to the trigger. One mandible twitched. He braced for recoil. Started to pull.

_No. Stop. Shepard's_.

And sure enough, less than a second later the batarian mercenary's head was shredded apart by a grain-sized bullet accelerated to untold speeds. The batarian dropped straight to the floor like a ragdoll, like he had never been alive in the first place. Shepard rematerialized on the far side of the walkway.

Her rifle was at eye level, but she wasn't looking down the scope. She was staring straight at him with two gemstone green eyes -- sharp, penetrating, yet somehow still tender. The corner of her mouth bent into the tiniest of grins.

The two were so in synch that it was almost scary. There had been no signal, no indication, that Shepard was about to kill the batarian. He just knew. _Her kill_. Inherent knowledge. Even when she was cloaked and invisible, when not even the most advanced geth heat-motion sensors could register a damned blip, Garrus could still track every one of Erin Shepard's movements instinctually. It was a sixth sense of theirs, he supposed. After all the battles and the blood and the near-death experiences they had shared. He knew her. She knew him. Trust implicit.

"There's one more behind this pillar." _Commander_ Shepard's strong, authoritative voice flowed through his comm. "Miranda, can we get a warp on--"

"Already on it, Shepard."

Miranda Lawson, who had been crouching behind some boxes up until now, entered the corner of his eye, pulsating with blue biotic energy. She raised one arm to the air, open palm. Then she closed her fist. Garrus heard… someone scream at the far side of the walkway. Asari? Or salarian? They both had such high-pitched, irresonant voices. He honestly couldn't tell.

Two seconds passed. Then Shepard popped back out of cover. "Clear." Garrus let his tense muscles relax.

Miranda started moving toward the second building. "This place is just crawling with Eclipse, commander. I wonder what Nassana is so eager to hide."

They were on the walkway between the two Dantius Buildings. A breathtaking panorama of Nos Astra surrounded them, with all its lights and cars and black glass and white concrete buildings. The wind was strong and the air was cold, but he could still hear the calming hum of urban noise. The living pulse of a living world.

Erin Shepard walked up to the edge. She stared out into the heart of Nos Astra. "I never imagined Illium to be so… violent."

"Don't let appearances fool you, commander," Garrus quickly began. "Illium may look safe and peaceful on the surface, but walk into the wrong alley, piss of the wrong person, and this place can be as dangerous as Feros or Noveria."

Shepard grinned a little, remembering. He watched as her eyes remained fixed on the panorama, fascinated. The wind picked up; it blew her yellow hair back like a rag.

They were rare, moments like these. Especially while on a mission. Moments when she stepped back, dropped her guard, let go of that enveloping shield of calm and confidence. Moments when she stopped being _Commander _Shepard for just a second, and _enjoyed_ life.

Just let herself be… Shepard.

He felt a knot in his stomach. She deserved more moments like these.

"Well, we've definitely pissed off the wrong person here," Miranda said impatiently. "Let's just hope this Thane Krios character is worth it."

He realized now how far back on the walkway Miranda was. Had she doubled back? No. It was him. He had been moving this whole time, without noticing, toward the far end of the bridge. Toward Shepard.

The Spectre pulled herself away from the edge, running a hand through her pale shoulder-length blonde hair. Fixing it up just a bit because, yes, there was still time for some vanity. She was a natural blonde. Garrus knew that was a genetic rarity among humans. That it was prized. And now, seeing a few rogue strands of light from one of Illium's moons reflect off the shimmering golden cascade… he supposed he could understand why.

"Come on, squad," she ordered. "We're almost at the penthouse."

Yep, she was _Commander _Shepard once again.

As Garrus headed for the far door, he let his rifle drop to the hip. Big mistake. A few seconds later something popped behind him. A little too much heat hit his back. "What's--" Miranda started. And then…

_Boom._

"Reinforcements!" yelled Shepard. "Heavies!"

Garrus whirled around, raising rifle to eye as he leapt for the cover of a nearby crate. There were four Eclipse mercs on the other side of the bridge now, back where the squad had just come from. How the _hell_? Had they missed them? Had they been hiding?

And through the veil of shock, he just barely noticed Miranda on the floor, her black-and-white armor quickly turning crimson red.

Garrus took half a second to get the mercs' positions. Just two heads bobbed out of cover. Human on the left, turian on the right. He stared down the scope.

_Left is Shepard's_. _Shepard always goes left_.

Without a moment's hesitation, Garrus put a slug right between the eyes of the turian.

The two mercs dropped dead simultaneously, like one was a mirror of the other. He glanced back just in time to catch Shepard rematerializing behind him mid-sprint. Her face was expressionless, but her eyes… they were flaring. He could see anger and fire and _fear_ underneath the piercing green. She opened her mouth to yell.

"Miranda!"

What was she DOING? There were still two mercs left! And the one who shot the rocket might still be standing. _Shepard_! He started to yell, but he killed the word in his throat. _No time_. Instead he aimed his rifle toward the mercenaries' position and fired a heavy concussive blast right at the floor.

One second passed. Nothing. Were they dead? Stunned, at the very least. Garrus's eyes moved over to Shepard. The Spectre was kneeling over Miranda's motionless form, omni-tool over her arm. He heard her voice, but couldn't make out what she was saying.

Then his reticule caught something. His heart froze; the yell tore out of his throat by itself.

--

Erin Shepard slid to the floor, her frame shielding the downed Miranda. Was she still cloaked? -- she could never tell whether the damned thing had worn off.

Miranda's leg was hit, but the Cerberus operative was conscious. A sizeable red puddle was expanding around her. With a thought, Shepard activated her omni-tool.

"It looks bad," she said bluntly. The Spectre wasn't one to euphemize injury. "But I'm getting you out."

That was when she heard Garrus yell. "Move! Now!"

Shepard's body responded before the sound had even hit her ears. She moved automatically, like a machine tuned to specifications. Trust implicit. _One second. _She grasped Miranda's wrist and _yanked, _tossing the Cerberus op forward. Then, using the momentum of the midair Miranda, she let herself leap forward, her left foot maintaining a tenuous grasp on the ground.

_Two seconds_. Miranda landed in front of the crate with an excruciating grimace. Tremors shook the walkway; the heat of the rocket blast hit her first. Then the impact wave -- the air itself became a solid wall.

She was smashed by the blast, propelled into midair. For a moment it felt more like drifting than falling. She looked down; her feet were over the edge of the walkway.

And then she was dropping. Five-hundred-and-God-knew-how-many stories straight down. A half second, at most, before she'd fall below the walkway. She extended her arm. Had to catch the--

Two fingers touched the concrete. Grazed it, really. She closed her hand. Nothing to grasp -- done. She was falling. Not Saren, not the geth, not the collectors, not the goddamn _Reapers_! Gravity.

Maybe it would be easier this way. She'd get to escape it all -- the pain, the nightmares, the scars. The guilt -- all the _fucking _things she'd done wrong! The fear, apprehension, the responsibility hoisted onto her shoulders like a supermassive black hole. Every damned heartbeat in this galaxy depending on _her_. What? A person can't be expected to hold that burden!

She would fall through Illium clouds. Terminal velocity in two seconds, drop at roughly one hundred meters per second after that. 1.6 Earth Masses. High gravity… well, high_er_. Minimum air resistance -- twelve seconds total before impact, maybe? And she would count every one of them, too, damn that rational and compulsive mind of hers.

But no. Those were coward's thoughts, and she was no defeatist. She forced them away; refused to die with them in her head. She was Commander Shepard, damn it!

The survivor.

And then something was touching her hand. Something was grasping it. She glared up. Three fingers -- talons. Their grip was strong and tight. Protective. Her hand seemed to disappear into them.

She hit moment of peak inertia, and then -- she was hanging. Swaying in the wind.

Safe.


	2. Chapter 2

"_She's gone, Garrus."_

_Lieutenant Alenko's words slammed into him harder than any bullet he'd ever taken. They left him speechless. He could do nothing but stare._

_He remembered the fight in the council chambers, how she had pulled herself out of the rubble, emerging like a triumphant eagle after he'd been so sure she was gone. She'll come back, he told himself. She's got a redundant escape pod, some trick up her sleeve. She always does!_

_But the minutes passed, and there was no Erin Shepard. The survivors stared at the sky with hopeless weight in their eyes. Liara T'Soni broke first, falling into the frozen ground of Alchera as warm tears left her eyes. Joker cursed, "my fault! All my fault." Kaidan Alenko said nothing; Wrex just walked away. They all felt knives shredding through their insides._

_But none of them felt it like him. It was a selfish notion, maybe, but he was sure that none of them were as torn to pieces as he was that day._

_None of them could be._

"Tests complete," came EDI's vaguely robotic voice, ripping him from his demons. "Displaying."

With a heavy sigh, Garrus pulled himself up to the monitor and scanned the results of the Thanix Cannon's first virtual test. The engineers had finished installing it as per his specifications while he was on Illium. Now he just needed to make sure it worked.

The numbers on his screen all seemed to check out. Until--

"EDI, what the hell is wrong with the sub-atmospheric arc rate? There's no way it should be this high. The missile's practically going straight down."

"Scanning," EDI replied. A second later, "There appear to be several inconsistencies in the weapon's programming. With your permission, I can repair them automatically."

Garrus sighed. "Go for it."

Silence and stillness fast returned to the main battery. It was late, and he was the only one awake on this part of the ship. Most of the crew was still on shore leave in Illium, so the crew quarters were all but empty. And Miranda's office down the hall was empty, too. For different reasons.

He quickly grew bored of watching EDI's number-crunching on the screen and let himself fall back against the wall.

_Omega. What a pisshole. Sometimes, while walking through those streets, he would tell himself that a few well-placed bombs could tear this station apart and nothing much would be lost._

_But there were still innocents to protect here. And way too much scum to kill. If not him, who else would put their ass on the line for this place? _

_He had to be here. He had to be the one. Nothing else…_

_He would throw himself into harm's way every day. Every moment was a brush with death. His men put themselves in danger too, sure, but they didn't take the risks he did. They didn't thrust themselves into the crossfire like him. He didn't want them to. He wanted to protect them. Protect this station, protect this galaxy… keep people safe._

_Those were the reasons he admitted to himself. But there was one more, one that he didn't even let himself think about. What kind of galaxy would let her die? After all the close calls, all the blood and the hardship, after what he thought was ultimate victory. What kind of irreparably broken galaxy would let Erin Shepard, the hero, the paragon, the best -- BEST -- that any species in this mass of space had to offer, die so damn pointlessly?_

_Not a galaxy he wanted to live in._

_Garrus Vakarian had a death wish._

"Repairs complete." Once again, EDI thrust him from the dark thoughts in his head. "Displaying."

This time, Garrus was glad the AI had interrupted him. His memories from Omega were… not happy ones. Dark days. He didn't want them back.

He gave the second set of results a cursory go-over. "Everything checks out, EDI. We'll run some live tests as soon as we get off Illium."

_You should probably get yourself to sleep, _he told himself. Tomorrow would be a long day -- as soon as they found a gas giant with a sizeable gravity well, they'd fire some test bursts into its atmosphere and recalibrate if necessary. Which, of course, it would be. But curiously enough, Garrus wasn't tired. It had been nearly a standard day since the Dantius Towers, yet the rush was still with him. That one moment of uncertainty, when she was falling… his body had released more adrenaline than he could handle, and it was taking a while to wear off.

_His team was dead, save that traitor Sidonis. And now, with all the mercenaries massing at his front door, his number would be coming up soon. Good. He was ready. His only regret was not taking that bastard with him._

_Freelancers, most of them, by the looks of it. Some of them were doubtless still kids. Scum! The Blue Suns, Eclipse, Blood Pack -- all of them! Throwing hapless cannon fodder at the problem, just to soften it._

_Yet he kept the rhythm. Aim, fire, dead. Fresh heat pack. Aim, fire, dead. Fresh heat pack. Maybe he should just let them take him. He was dead anyway… but no. He let these freelancers kill him, and soon enough they would just be a part of the mercenary web that ran this place._

_Aim, fire, dead. Fresh heat pack. Aim, fire, dead. Fresh heat pack. Aim, fi--_

_What the hell?_

_No… it couldn't be. Fatigue and fear were playing with his head. Or maybe one of the freelancers had snuck inside and gotten behind him, and this was just his death visage. If that was the case, he was grateful. Her face would be the last thing he'd see… he wouldn't have it any other way._

_But then she was shooting at the rest of the freelancers and, oh yeah, they were falling. They were bleeding. She was at the door; through the door. The other two humans he didn't recognize followed -- they were clearly under her command. He heard three sets of footsteps climbing the stairs._

"_Archangel?" It was her voice. No tricks this time, no illusions._

_It was her._

Garrus was so engrossed in his memory that he barely heard the _real _set of footsteps coming down the hall toward the main battery. He knew who it would be. Nobody else came down here, save EDI -- if she even counted -- and the occasional visit from one of the engineers to gripe about how one of his upgrades had thrown some number off down below.

The doors opened, and Erin Shepard walked in without a moment of hesitation. Anyone else would have knocked, or at least lingered near the door. Not her. "Hey."

He couldn't stop his mandibles from flaring out into a warm turian grin. "Hey to you. I haven't seen much of you since… well…"

"Yeah, I know. I'm sorry. Miranda, Thane, finishing up business on Illium." She stepped up to the rail and leaned into it, close to him.

"You've been busy."

She shrugged.

There was a short silence. Not awkward, but… he wanted it gone. "How's Miranda doing?"

"The shrapnel was mainly confined to her legs, but she lost a lot of blood. If it weren't for that heavy skin weave we implanted, she would have been in real trouble." Shepard sighed. "But she's going to make a full recovery."

"That's good," he said carefully. He wasn't sure what he thought about Miranda yet. She was a Cerberus puppy, that much was undeniable. But she was capable. And she had shown nothing but dedication so far. Maybe, just maybe, she could be trusted.

Shepard said, "You should go see her."

The idea sounded absolutely distasteful to him. "Now, I don't think that's a good--"

"Why not? She may not show it, Garrus, but she respects you immensely. You're a hero. Hell, if it weren't for you, we'd all have died two years ago. Who wouldn't respect that?"

He considered it. Briefly. Then he said, "I'm sure she'll be just fine waking up without me at her bedside." He raised his eyes to her face. "And Thane?"

Shepard shrugged. "He found a nice, dry little corner in life support. Hasn't come out since. Not even to eat, according to Rupert."

"What do drell eat, anyway?"

She chuckled. "Maybe I should give him some of my fish food, now that all the fish are dead." After a short silence, her eyes dropped, ashamed. "Wow, that was mean."

"Relax, Shepard," he said, laughing. "It was funny. Besides, whatever he ends up eating, it'll be better than that dextro-amino paste crap Tali and I get to shove down our throats."

At that, her eyes jerked up. She looked momentarily horrified, brushing his shoulder lightly with her hand. "Garrus, I'm so sorry. I had no idea you hated it that much. We're still on Illium -- tomorrow morning we can go pick up some better dextro-based food."

He grinned. "I said _relax_! I was only joking." After a brief hesitation, "Well, if you think we can afford it…"

"Of course we can! No expense is spared for my crew."

It really wasn't that funny. But seeing her, the great Spectre, get so concerned over food… was just adorable. He couldn't stop himself from throwing his head back and letting out a hearty torrent of laughter. And by the end of it, she was laughing too.

She had such a youthful laugh, like bursts of wind against cement. God! How he had missed that.

He brushed her arm with the back of one of his talons. It sent a streak of goosebumps down her skin, but thankfully, in the darkness, he couldn't see them. "What about you?" he asked warmly. The tender resonance in his voice sent chills down her spine. "You want to talk about… what happened at the towers?"

Hell yes, she did. What could she tell him? Despite the dangers they undertook mission after mission, she had never gotten that close to death. Except… well… when she died.

"I guess I should thank you. For saving my life. Again."

Garrus chuckled. "Shepard, if we start keeping track of how many times we've saved each other's lives, the Reapers will be here before we finish. Let's just call it permanently even."

"But this time was different, wasn't it?" She looked away, nibbling at her bottom lip, finding it hard to find her words. This was what she had come down here for in the first place. Why didn't she know what to say? "You saved me with a… real flair for the dramatic."

The turian grinned smugly. "I suppose I did."

Erin could still remember the thoughts that crossed her mind as she prepared to die. Defeatist thoughts. Weakness, in a time when she couldn't afford anything but strength. She was still mad at herself for letting those thoughts enter her mind. She didn't want to die, not by a long shot. Besides, this mission was far too important. Everything was on her, and she owed it to the galaxy to survive. Like she always did.

And she would. As long as Garrus Vakarian was at her side, she knew she'd always be safe.

She stared warmly into her turian friend's dark eyes. "Thank you, Garrus."

And then there was another silence. Only the hum of the drive core and the soft vibrations of the ship could be heard through the veil of quiet. But again, it wasn't awkward. How could it be between two people who trusted each other unconditionally? Garrus kept his eyes on Erin, watched her watch the circuits and tubes of the main gun. Her face, her body, her posture; it all radiated nothing but strength and confidence. But her eyes… the shield of _Commander _Shepard didn't quite cover them. Sharp and penetrating they remained. But there was a softness in those eyes. They were the only part of her that exposed her pain. Her vulnerability.

He never wanted to see those eyes harden.

"You shouldn't have gone after Miranda," he whispered.

Her head turned on a dime. "What?"

"You shouldn't have gone after Miranda, Shepard. She was wide open, and you knew there were hostiles still standing! You put yourself in incredible danger."

"What are you saying, Garrus?" He could tell by her voice that she was _Commander _Shepard again. "Are you telling me how to command my squad?"

"No, Shepard. I know you care deeply about every member of your crew, but I'm telling you to be careful. As a friend."

"I don't leave my crew in danger." Her voice rose sharply; it was hostile now. He kicked himself in his head.

But he had to tell her. She had to know. "Shepard, you almost died! What do you think would happen if you did? Hmm?" He scowled. He hadn't wanted it to be this bitter. "We can't handle losing you again. None of us. Not me, not the crew, not the galaxy."

He fully expected a beratement in return, but instead he got… a long silence. When he looked back at her, her head was slumped, her golden hair completely covering her face.

"Erin, I--"

"She loved Virmire." Erin Shepard's voice was sad and heavy. "She said it reminded her of Earth. A place called South Beach." The Spectre chuckled lightly, but there was no joy in her voice. "'The damn politicians better make sure we get this orb,' she told me. 'I'd move here. Spend the rest of my life here. You don't waste colonies this pretty.'"

And now he understood. He hadn't meant to open up old wounds. _Garrus, you moron--_

"Well, Ashley Williams got her wish. She spent the rest of her life on that orb. Short as it was." Erin Shepard lifted her head slowly. She wasn't crying, but the pain in her eyes was enough to make his heart feel like someone was squeezing away at it with their fingers. She looked straight at him, fire and accusation and anger in her voice. "I don't leave my crew in danger, Garrus. Ever." She realized now that the anger was not at him, but at herself. "Not again."

What followed was a long, heavy silence, Erin instantly regretting every _fucking _word that left her lips. Her head was coursing; her thoughts raced. She was Commander Shepard, damn it! She couldn't let her emotions control her like that. And she could _not _risk to alienate the last close friend she had in this galaxy.

"Garrus, I'm sorry. I--"

He placed a hand on her back. Pulled her close. With his free hand, he lightly brushed the skin under her eye. His sharp onyx eyes stared deep into her soft green ones, penetrating into her soul. "Don't blame yourself, Erin. Blame Saren. Blame Sovereign. Blame the scientists that built that krogan army."

Her eyes dropped to the rail. She didn't -- couldn't -- meet his eyes. "If we had moved faster, cleared the facility sooner, we could have gotten there before the geth sent reinforcements." She paused. "We could have saved them both."

"You did everything right, Erin. You went to protect the nuke. You made sure it went off, so that facility would be gone for good and Saren could be defeated." He ran his hand up the length of her spine, brushing her lightly, until he reached her golden hair. There he stopped. They were in full embrace now. "And you did the impossible. You saved one of them."

At that instant, she pulled away, leaving his arms completely. "Lieutenant Kaidan Alenko," she said aloud. "A great soldier. An even greater man. A goddamn hero by any stretch of the imagination." Her eyes dropped down to the floor. "A man I felt absolutely nothing for."

She knew it was horrible of her. Kaidan Alenko was one of the best people she had ever served with. She was proud as hell that she had kept him alive.

But even today, she wondered if the price was too high.

"I left Ashley Williams, the woman I considered a sister, to die." Acid resonated in her voice. "So do _not _tell me I don't get to blame myself, because I blame myself a hundred and ten percent! Saren and the geth were going to do what they always did. I was the variable. _I _was what went wrong." She stopped, her sorrow palpable in the air despite the hardened look on her face. "I lost my best friend."

He knew her pain, of course. Two years… and he hadn't gotten an inch closer to getting over it. His time on Omega, thrusting himself into harm's way almost haphazardly. Why? It was all in the hope that one day a merc would shoot a bullet through the hollow, spent heat sink in his chest, and he could die damn proud of the few months he had served with her.

His eyes dropped straight to the ground. "You're not the only one who knows loss."

And that was when it finally hit home. Two years had felt like two weeks to her, but to Garrus… they had been two years of grief and agony. She knew how slow the turian was to trust, to open up to someone else. Hell, he had only done so with her after she helped him close the chapter on Dr. Saleon. Garrus knew pain. He knew loss. He was so cautious with his emotions, but when he found someone he trusted... he never let go.

"I'm sorry, Garrus."

He gave her a cautious look. "For what?"

"For leaving you alone for two years."

She understood. He wasn't the only one who found it hard to trust.

"Every man and woman on the SR1 was a hero," she said, weight almost crushing in her voice. "But there were two people who I could have by my side as I marched into hell itself, and feel completely and totally safe." Without a moment of hesitation, she moved closer to him, threw her arms around his waist and held him tight. "I'm just glad I still have one of them."

"I'm back, Garrus. I won't be getting myself killed again, I promise." It was an impossible promise to keep, but she didn't care.

He placed one hand to rest against her back. "I'm here for you, too, Erin. I'll keep you safe. Always will."

And at that moment, she felt more for him than just trust.

"Garrus--"

But she stopped abruptly. They had both heard it. Footsteps, moving quickly, clashing down the hallway toward the main battery. They pulled apart just in time for Gabby Daniels to walk in, attention completely fixed on her lit-up datapad. "Garrus, I know it's late, but I was looking over the rotational specs you--" She stopped abruptly. "Oh, Commander. I… didn't know you'd be here."

She gave the engineer a warm smile. "Don't worry, the turian is all yours to bore with tech. I was just here thanking him. For saving my life." She gave Garrus a quick glance. "Again."

"Of course, Commander," said Gabby, her hand moving in the direction of a salute before she stopped herself. "Gah! Keep thinking I'm still in the Alliance."

Shepard chuckled lightly. "Make sure you both get some rest, alright? Tomorrow, it's back into the fire."


	3. Chapter 3

_Thanks to everyone who read and reviewed! Hope you all enjoy part three!_

* * *

The Normady SR2 was approaching a gas giant named Hibernia. According to the computer, it possessed an atmosphere almost exclusively of methane and chlorine gas, held 49 independent satellites in its gravity well, and measured 2.8 Jupiter Masses. What in the hell Jupiter was, he couldn't even venture to guess.

Garrus was back in the main battery, his own incandescent red-soaked corner of the ship. Illium was five hours and 671.52 light years behind them. Sleep had eluded him last night; the memory was still too fresh in his mind. The rush from the Dantius Towers was just now flowing out of his system. The jitters and the muscle tension were dissipating. Garrus knew his own body. He knew he'd be crashing _very_ soon.

But there was no fatigue in his muscles yet. His eyes felt no trouble staying open. He was as clear and awake as ever, despite going well over forty-eight hours without sleep.

"What do you think?" asked Agent Jacob Taylor, who was standing in the main battery staring at a live feed of Hibernia on the computer screen. "Atmospheric pressure is…"

"Well outside the Voerman Limit." That was Kenneth Donnelly down in engineering, his voice flowing seamlessly into the room through the SR2's communication systems. "Its gravity well is high enough to catch the blast, but low enough that it won't distort the electromagnetic field."

Gabby Daniels's voice poured in as she completed his thought for him. "For the purposes of the test, it'll be like firing into open space. Except it won't, you know, go all Newton's First Law on us and continue at a constant speed and direction until it hits some hapless planet twenty million light years away."

"Physics brings out the bad girl in you, eh?" said Donnelly, his voice exaggeratedly flirtatious.

Garrus heard the indistinguishable sound of a quarian clearing her throat. Tali'Zorah, the unofficial mistress of engineering, interrupted them swiftly. "Engines are engaged, FTL flight is ready to go. Mass effect fields are at full strength. We are simulating full ship-to-ship combat status."

"We should be good to go," said Miranda, who was directing the whole operation from her bed in the medical bay. "The system is uninhabited. The planet is… well, it's a gas giant. According to the computer, it's the most popular drive core discharge spot in the sector, so we already know that no one much cares about it. Does it fit all the requirements for the test?"

"It does," said EDI, the AI's voice coming from the console near the door.

Miranda clicked her tongue. "Then I think we've found our planet."

"Take her into orbit?" asked Joker from the cockpit.

"Do it, Joker."

Now Garrus could hear light footsteps tapping their way down the metal catwalks of the engineering deck. A moment later, Jack's angry and hostile voice poured in through the comm. "What the fuck's going on up here, huh? I'm trying to get some sleep, but you people just don't _shut_ the hell up."

Tali sighed. "Jack--"

"What, you're having an engineering block party and decided not to invite your biotic best friend? Damn, quarian. I'm hurt."

"Jack, get off this channel," Miranda said sharply.

"Ah, should have known. You've got the Cerberus cheerleader on conference call. Who else did you invite? Not the krogan, I bet."

As the audio-only catfight continued, Jacob sighed. He shook his head, giving Garrus a long and exasperated look. "Looks like everyone on the ship wants to be part of the cannon's first live test."

"Looks that way," said Garrus, his voice tight and unenthusiastic. It was true. Everyone was here, in some way or another, to give their valuable bit of input before he fired the Thanix Cannon into the depths of Hibernia.

Everyone, save one notable exception.

Commander Shepard was nowhere to be found.

He could still feel the warmth on his skin. The heat, the tingling electricity on the spots where she'd touched him. It was all in his head, of course -- he'd been wearing full armor, save his gloves. But it still _felt _real. It felt as real as anything, and by _God_ it felt good.

Was he crazy, or just stupid? After two years of slowly trying to put it behind him… now she was back. And those impossible, inappropriate, _inescapable _feelings were crawling back with her. They bit at his mind, gnawed at his chest. He tried to push them away, rationalize them off as stupid, dangerous, pointless. But they were there again, and they would not be denied.

Two years ago, he'd been convinced that there was nothing more between him and Shepard than trust and friendship and respect, mixed in with a little hero worship and misplaced attraction. But after all that they'd shared -- all the pain, the blood and the emotions, the nights they spent talking for hours on end... it was inevitable that his feelings would become more. When she died, his whole world turned black. He found that he could not go back to being the man he was before he met her. C-Sec, the Spectres… none of it mattered anymore. Nothing did. That was why he went to Omega.

And now she was back. Everything had slid back into place, like a machine that just needed its fusion sink replaced. The gap of time had closed almost seamlessly, and before he knew it, they were back to their old selves again. Best friends, trusted comrades, trusting each other with their lives, talking for hours in the night. They would remember all the crazy things they had done, wonder about the crazy things they still had left to do. He had opened up to her again, like it was the easiest thing in the world.

They were as close as ever. Closer, even. Hell, she had just poured her soul out to him last night, and he had made everything better almost by accident. She'd done the same thing with him after Dr. Saleon. After Sidonis.

He didn't want to fight it. He shouldn't have been fighting it at all, especially not after seeing what he became without her. Omega… he refused to go back to those days. He wanted to stay here, with her -- the last, best person he had to hold onto.

Here, he was complete.

"In high orbit now," said Joker as he brought the SR2 to rest. Garrus felt it lurch just a bit.

"Everything is ready down here," Tali added. "We are monitoring all major systems."

There was a brief, almost unnoticeable moment of hesitation from Miranda. "…Where's Jack?"

"Oh, I'm still here, cheerleader." Jack's scathing voice came through louder than all the rest. "But don't worry. I promise I'll behave. Wouldn't want shockwaves going off around the mass effect core while the big gun's firing, would we?"

"I'll keep an eye on her," Tali said. "I'll make sure she doesn't cause trouble."

Jack scoffed. "Oh, quarian, what I would give to see you try…"

Miranda took a breath. If he didn't know better, he would have said that the Cerberus operative was nervous. "EDI, do one last full systems check. I don't want some misaligned rotator to backfire and blow the ship apart."

"Working," said the AI. Five seconds later, "Everything appears to be in order. I expect this test to go off without any mechanical complications."

Miranda sighed. "Alright, main battery. We are set for fire."

Jacob Taylor turned and gave him a brief flash of a grin. "It's your gun, Garrus. You want to do the honors?"

Garrus didn't particularly want to do anything, but he forced his attention to the console nonetheless. He took a second to watch the convective bands of Hibernia as they flowed across the surface, passing and overtaking and intermingling with each other like a thousand arms. The chlorine atmosphere gave the planet a dark green tint unlike any gas giant he had ever seen. It reminded him of a perfectly round, murky emerald.

It reminded him of her eyes.

_Hah. Your eyes are as beautifully green as a chlorine-methane gas giant with 2.8 Jupiter Masses. Great, turian. Just... great._

"Alright, we're ready," he said. "EDI… fire."

Garrus felt the lightest of rumbles beneath his feet. It may have been in his head, but he could have sworn he felt the room get just a degree hotter for a second, too. Then there was nothing. The orange beam from the Thanix Cannon shot straight through space and into the surface of Hibernia, where it promptly disappeared without a trace.

"Well?" Miranda asked.

Tali spoke up, surprised. "According to initial readings… nothing. All systems are responding well. No heat spikes, no electromagnetic interference, nothing." She added a breathless, "…amazing."

"Come on, Tali, have a bit more faith in the best engineer in the Alliance," said Donnelly smugly.

"Ken, you are _not_ the best engineer in the Alliance," Gabby quickly rebutted. "You're just the only one who mouthed off to the press about Shepard loud enough to get recruited by Cerberus. And I'm the only one stupid enough to be your best friend."

Miranda quickly interrupted them. "What about you, EDI? Any irregular activity?"

"Preliminary scans show that all ship systems are working at optimum efficiency. The cannon appears to have been perfectly integrated with the ship."

"Hah!" yelled Ken.

Jacob nudged Garrus out of the way and glanced at the readout on the computer screen. "Everything looks good on our end, too."

"Well," said Jack. "I'm impressed. I half-expected to get cooked alive by uncontrolled heat buildup. Congrats, turian, looks like you _won't _be the one to get us all killed after all."

There was a short silence, as the collective lack of patience for Jack from everyone involved threatened to reach boiling point.

Then Miranda's voice poured in. "Well, if that's all…"

"Commander Shepard has just arrived in the Combat Operation Center," EDI said suddenly, interrupting her. "She is about to speak to the Illusive Man. She has requested to be joined by Agent Taylor… and Officer Vakarian."


	4. Chapter 4

Erin Shepard had overslept. It was not a practice she was accustomed to, nor was it one she wanted to repeat. She was not a heavy sleeper. She slept short nights, and her body had become accustomed to a short Circadian Rhythm. Insomnia was nothing new to her. But last night, after everything that happened on Illium -- and _especially _after her talk with Garrus -- she'd found it impossible to shut off the valve of thoughts pouring through her head. The ideas, worries, emotions. Too loud and too much.

What did she feel for Garrus Vakarian? God, what a question. Friendship, respect. Trust, of course. She trusted that damned turian with her life and her soul. Nobody was easier to open up to. Nobody else could listen like him, reassure her whenever she made a tough decision, keep her head clear for the next life-or-death mission. He was the best friend she could ask for.

She… couldn't risk screwing that up. She needed him -- absolutely relied on him, both on the battlefield and off.

But she was a selfish, short-sighted bitch sometimes. And _damn it_, she wanted him too.

_You're an idiot, Shepard. You mess with things that don't need fixing. You'll bring the whole house of cards down._

Leaning now against the door to the armory, Shepard watched the elevator rise. It moved slowly. Almost painfully so. When the machinery ground to a halt, the doors opened like mouth of a yawning giant. She watched as they revealed the two figures standing inside.

"Jacob," she said with a nod and a smile. Her eyes stayed on the agent for only a moment. Then they drifted over to Garrus, locking together with his onyx eyes. They stared at each other, wordless and expressionless, for what seemed like an eternity. It was really all of four seconds.

Shepard finally broke it with a grin. "Garrus. Good to see you both."

"Good to see you, too, commander," said Jacob. The ex-soldier gave her a rigorous salute.

Garrus didn't do anything as overt as saluting but, in a way, the turian grin he threw her conveyed so much more.

"So how did the test go?" she asked aloud, sounding genuinely curious. The question was aimed at both of them, but her eyes remained on just one.

Garrus looked so complacent, so _calm _as he reached back to scratch the tip of his fringe. "Well enough," he said. "EDI seems happy. Tali is… surprised." Shepard knew how highly turians prized their fringes, how they considered them indications of strength, power and beauty. Watching his shine like silver now against the soft artificial light of the ship… she supposed she could understand why.

"Well, now we're one Thanix Cannon closer to surviving, I guess." Shepard chuckled softly, wordlessly cursing her inability to come up with anything wittier than that. "Come on. The Illusive Man is waiting for us in the comm room."

But she realized after a few steps that the two men weren't following her.

She turned around just in time to see Jacob start. "Commander, with all due respect to Garrus… shouldn't it be Miranda up here for a meeting like this?"

"I have to admit, I was wondering that myself, Shepard," Garrus said sheepishly behind him.

Shepard sighed. "Last I checked, Miranda is in bed with two badly injured legs that she can barely stand on. The woman needs rest, whether or not she wants it." She turned around and continued toward the comm room. "In the meantime, _Officer _Vakarian can sub for her."

"The Illusive Man's not going to like it," Jacob said quickly, falling back into pace with her.

"The Illusive Man doesn't like a lot of things. This is my ship."

She assumed from both their silences that they were satisfied with her answer.

---

"I don't like it, Commander." Garrus was pacing now, restive and a bit predatorial. He moved swiftly from one end of the comm room to the other. "A turian frigate disabling a Collector ship? Something doesn't sound right."

Jacob kept his weight against the wall. "The Illusive Man said it would be dangerous. But we can't pass up a lead like this."

From day one, Erin Shepard had approached the Illusive Man with the razor of logic. He had his own agenda, that much was for sure -- and it was a sinister agenda, at that. But he was a human patriot, and the only way he could protect humanity was through Shepard. He had everything to gain from supporting her. What could he possibly gain from betraying her or setting her up? It was a classic prisoner's dilemma, and he was too smart not to realize it. Screwing her would be a zero-sum game.

Erin trusted the Illusive Man, if only due to circumstances.

She walked over to a nearby console and pressed a few keys. "I know you were listening in, Miranda, so don't bother denying it."

"Commander--" Miranda's voice sounded a bit shocked as it poured in through the speakers.

"No, don't apologize. I wouldn't expect anything less." Shepard raised her eyes to watch the two men in the room with her. Jacob leaned against the wall, silent, seemingly avoiding eye contact. Garrus continued to pace.

"Commander, we don't have a choice," Miranda said after a few long moments. "Whatever is on that ship, we have to find it."

Shepard scowled. As little sense as it made for the Illusive Man to screw with her, she had to agree with Garrus. Something felt… off. She could feel it in her chest. Her instincts were screaming at her to avoid this mission, and they rarely led her astray.

But in the end, Miranda was right. They didn't have a choice. It was a lead, and they had to check it out. "Joker," she said aloud. "EDI is uploading you some coordinates just off the Korlus System. Get us there now."

The AI wordlessly established a comm link to the bridge. Moments later, Joker's voice streamed in. "Korlus System… got it, Commander. ETA twenty-eight hours." A short pause. "Just out of curiosity, who are we slaughtering when we get there?"

"Collectors," she said without really thinking about it.

She heard what sounded like Joker shifting around in his prized leather seat. "Collectors, great. They're just buckets of fun."

"Anything else, Commander?" Jacob asked.

She shook her head once, turning back to the console to disable Miranda's and Joker's comm links. "That's all for now. Dismissed, Taylor."

Jacob Taylor gave her a stiff and respectful salute. Then he went straight out the door. In the next few moments, a rigid silence poured into the comm room. Garrus had stopped pacing. She could feel his presence behind her.

"I'm guessing there's a reason I'm not dismissed?"

Shepard glanced around the room, uneasy. She pulled herself away from the computer, but kept a hand on it, like it was the only thing grounding her in the fluid empty space of the room. Finally her emerald eyes came to rest on him. "There is," she admitted, "but it's not a very good one. I…" she hesitated, her words drifting away to nothing. "Hey."

"Good… morning, Shepard." He sounded confused. She didn't blame him.

She let her eyes drop and started fiddling with her short fingernails. The tension in the room was palpable; the walls became rigid iron. The air she breathed felt heavy, like there was more than just oxygen hitting her lungs. Was this as horrible an idea as she thought?

"Listen, I'm sorry for unloading on you last night," she said finally, letting out a soundless sigh of relief. The tension in the room lessened.

Garrus approached her softly, timing each step. "Shepard, you don't have to apologize to me." He briefly contemplated embracing her, but decided against it. "I'm here for you whenever you need me."

That seemed to dissolve the tension. She raised her eyes again, and he could see a fresh glow in her face. She smiled. "I have something to--"

"No." He raised an open talon into the air in the universal expression of _Stop_. "Me first."

He didn't give himself a chance to second-guess it. Instead, he took both her hands in his and closed his palms tight. Turians had soft, leathery skin on their palms, similar to the velvet that seemed to cover humans' entire bodies. It allowed his people much more sensitivity than the scales and muscle and cartilage that coated most of the rest of the turian anatomy.

He slid his palms against hers, soft skin touching soft skin. Among turians, it was one of the most intimate expressions possible. He had no idea what it meant for humans, but he didn't let that stop him. "I don't like what I become when you're not around, Shepard," he said, staring deep into her emerald eyes. "I get all dark and hateful and angry at the world. It's ugly." His voice was shakier than he meant it to be, but judging by the look on her face, she didn't seem to notice. "Spending two years without you was… well, it messed me up."

"I'm sorry, Garrus," she said, her voice small and soft. Her eyes didn't move.

"No. You're done apologizing. You've got nothing to be sorry about." He sighed, struggling to find the right words, fighting to keep away the doubts and sheer_ horror _that were threatening to invade his mind. "I think…"

But he never got a chance to tell her what he thought, because that was when she threw the full weight of her body against him and kissed him.

_She _kissed _him_. He wasn't kissing back. What could he do? Turians never expressed themselves like this. Head spinning, thoughts rushing at speeds he could not control, he threw his arms around her body, wrapping them around her and holding her tight. He pushed her back, only semi-conscious. His mandibles flared _hard_. He raised them up and out, beyond their normal limits. And then, ever so slowly, he brought them to rest against her cheeks. His touch brought out a soft, tender whimper from her throat, and that tiny noise was enough to make his chest explode with joy.

She didn't stop. She didn't even begin to slow down. She ran her tongue carefully along his carnivorous front teeth, like she was painting an incredibly sharp fence. Garrus wasn't entirely sure how to react. But instinct told him to part his teeth slowly. She responded without hesitation, and the feeling of her soft tongue against his was… well, he now understood why humans so loved to kiss. He emitted a soft, low growl in his throat, constant and resonant.

Then something… happened outside. It might have been Mordin dropping something in his lab, or Yeoman Chambers reacting to a new bit of news with her characteristically high-pitched gasp. Whatever it was, it brought Shepard out of her haze. Her eyes popped open, and she pulled herself away in an instant, heart thumping furiously against the walls of her chest.

Holy _shit_, what had she just done?

Garrus's onyx eyes opened slowly, and the expression on his face was one of confusion and… and… _fear_. She could read the questions in his eyes, the worries -- had he done something wrong? Had he hurt her somehow, bitten her without noticing? He took a single step back. "Erin, are you okay?"

But her eyes were to the ground, tracing the grooves and indentures of the metal floor. Counting them, without even really noticing. Damn that compulsive mind of hers.

"This was a mistake, Garrus."

She'd said it with zero emotion. No sharp tone, no upward inflection, no hint of positive or negative body language. But it pierced him harder than he could have imagined. He felt his heart rate dropping as a pit started to brew in his stomach. "Did I--"

"No, this is all on me." She turned around, giving him her back and staring straight at the wall. Why? _Why _had she pulled away? It was perfect; it all could have worked out so well. This was what she wanted -- every part of her had wanted it. Every last cell in her body had been in a state of utter bliss!

Every part of her, save that _goddamn _logical mind sitting in her head.

She needed order and loyalty and clear-headedness on the Normandy -- no distractions. She needed to be able to rely on every member of her team, and she _had _to avoid attachment. Any number of them could die by the time this was over. Her mind needed to be clear, to make decisions based on reason and not emotion. Reason, logic, quick thinking -- that's what made her so good at what she did. She couldn't afford to cloud her head. She had a responsibility to the whole galaxy. Every heartbeat rested in her arms, and she _had _to do it right.

The stakes were too high this time. She could open up to Garrus completely, give in to her emotions and let herself fall into his arms. But if she lost him, after everything... she wouldn't be able to recover from that.

She turned around and came face-to-face with Garrus. She gave him the best, warmest smile she could muster. "I know I've said it too many times already. But I'm sorry."

He could see it in her face. She was torn. She looked so uneasy, so angry with herself. It was such a striking difference from the cool confidence that _Commander _Shepard always exuded. Now he felt like he needed to bail her out. "Erin, if you want, we can just forget about this."

"I…" No, that wasn't what she wanted. But she owed him some sort of explanation. Without hesitating, she leaned in and kissed his mouth softly, once, for just a second. "I promise I'll explain soon, okay? But there's just… too much depending on us right now. We need our heads clear."

"So we forget about it?" He didn't want to say it, but there was no way he'd be able to clear his head after this.

Erin Shepard closed her eyes and sighed heavily. "I don't know. You do what you need to." She turned back to the console at the edge of the room. "Tomorrow we're taking on the Collector ship. I need you with me, and I need you thinking clearly."

Then she left. During the unbearably long elevator ride up to her cabin, she did nothing but silently curse herself.

* * *

_Yes, yes, I know. Erin Shepard can be a right royal moron sometimes._

_Anyway, as of now I'm planning this fanfic to last seven chapters. So that means we're more than halfway done. Rock on, folks!  
_


	5. Chapter 5

"I need to kill something, Shepard!" Grunt was half-roaring, punching his open palm with his fist. "If it's not the Collectors, it'll be that little scrawny bitch down in the low decks."

Normally, Erin didn't mind dealing with the… eccentricities of some of her crew. But today she was in no mood. The SR2 was in orbit around the derelict Collector ship. She could see it out the cockpit viewport at the far end of the hall. It was still now, floating lifelessly through black space. But those massive guns, those charred battle scars along the hull… all that twisted, sharp metal -- it sent nervous chills down her spine. It seemed impossible for a turian patrol to take out a ship that big. EDI read no lifesigns or heat signatures on board, but somehow, inside, Erin knew that there was no chance in hell this mission would be easy.

A small crowd had gathered around the galaxy map. Garrus was here, along with Yeoman Chambers, Jacob, a few crew members… Miranda, who shouldn't have been out of bed.

And of course Grunt.

"Damn it, Shepard, I haven't killed anything in five days! That's my longest dry spell on record."

Oh, to be so young…wo

Shepard was in full combat armor. Her sniper rifle was strapped tight to her back, her pistol and her submachine gun holstered at either side. Behind her came Samara, equally well-armed and armored. "Sorry, Grunt," Shepard said, raising an open palm to the krogan. "Not this time." She scanned the small crowd until her eyes found their target: Garrus. "Officer Vakarian, go get your weapons and suit up. Shuttle's waiting."

The krogan unleashed a hellish noise from his throat, like a snarl mixed together with a laugh. "I'm seeing red, Shepard. Take me with you. Please, let me rip up some fleshy necks!"

"We're going into a Collector ship, Grunt. That could mean husks. I need a biotic with me to keep them under control."

The krogan bellowed. "Fine! Take me instead of the turian."

"I have to take Garrus," Shepard said calmly, fighting back rapidly growing impatience. She and Samara continued down the hall toward the airlock. They were almost halfway there when Grunt said something that made her stop dead in her tracks.

"Damn it, Shepard, you'll have plenty of time to suck off the turian after we get--"

That was when a certain resonant voice pierced the tentative veil. "Hey!" She turned around to see Garrus, sniper rifle in tow, heading straight for Grunt with fury in his eyes and predatory fire in each step. His arm was raised; his sharp talon was pointed directly at the krogan. "Your battlemaster made a decision and you're going to respect it," he growled, planting the talon on the krogan's chest. "She's your commander and your superior. She's got ten times the quads you do, and she's proven it. Don't you _dare _say anything so disrespectful to her again!"

A tense moment followed, with Garrus and Grunt locking furious eyes. Shepard half-expected the krogan to jump him right then and there. But Garrus did not waver. He stood straight, mandibles in full flare. His talon didn't move. His onyx eyes seemed to pierce the krogan, wither him away and slice him apart. Finally, with a long, angry breath, Grunt turned around and thumped away in the direction of the elevator.

Once he was gone, Garrus let his body relax. "Ready, Commander."

---

The Collector ship was just as empty and quiet as it had looked from the outside. But nonetheless, Shepard, Garrus, and Samara moved through the darkened hallways with weapons drawn, constantly on guard, constantly awaiting an ambush. They could all feel it. Something was wrong. The air felt chilly against their skin, despite the fact that all three were wearing full body armor and helmets. The walls surrounding them looked… unnatural -- metal fused with biological material. The halls curved and angled dramatically, unevenly. It felt impossible to keep track of where they were.

But worst of all was the silence. It seemed to creep into them and suffocate them as they moved, broken only by the sound of their footsteps. Shepard had never understood the metaphor of deafening silence until now. Every corridor they hit was empty and still, showing zero evidence of Collector activity. The rational part of her mind told her that this ship was probably empty. The Collectors must have all died or evacuated or _something_.

But her gut told her that she should be so lucky.

Eventually they turned a corner, and Shepard was hit by a sight she wasn't prepared for.

The room they had just entered… well, it wasn't a room at all. It was a massive, endless atrium, the size of a small city or more. The ceiling towered high above their heads; the walls stretched forward as far as the eye could see. "By the goddess…" whispered Samara. All three of them stopped dead in their tracks.

"Shepard, look at the ceiling," said Garrus, sounding utterly stunned. "It's covered in pods. Every square inch." He shook his head slowly as he crept forward. "There aren't enough humans in the whole of the Terminus systems to fill all these pods."

She felt a chill run down her spine. "That can only mean one thing."

Earth. The Collectors were going for Earth.

This mission just became that much more critical.

The three of them continued forward, moving down the only path available to them. After a few meters they reached a small platform. A single control panel sat at the end, glowing green against the darkness. Exactly what they were looking for. Shepard walked up to it, activating her omni-tool with a thought. "EDI, I'm setting up a bridge between you and the Collector ship. See if you can get anything useful from the data banks."

"Data mine in progress, Shepard," the AI responded with almost terrifying speed.

She couldn't really tell what EDI was doing from inside the ship, but she watched as strange, alien figures and characters streaked across the control panel. Garrus and Samara moved close behind her. It all seemed to take just a bit too long. Then…

A flash. The control panel shut down instantaneously. She heard Joker's voice in her ear. "Uh… that can't be good."

Shepard was already on edge, and this little development had not helped calm her nerves. Her muscles tensed. Her arms instinctively went for her gun. "What the hell just happened?"

"Major power surge," said Joker. "Everything went dark, but we're back up now."

EDI started saying something, but Shepard wasn't paying attention. The Spectre heard a noise above and behind her -- the pattering of little feet, creeping up in the rafters. She reacted instantly, spinning around and raising her scope to eye level.

But she found nothing except empty space. _Damn it!_ Something was wrong.

Then things got worse. EDI said, "Shepard, this was not a malfunction. This was a trap."

At that moment there was a flurry of noise, so sudden and rapid that she couldn't keep track of it all. Another flash hit her eyes, blinding her. Garrus and Samara started moving. Mechanical sounds bounced and echoed off the walls, along with footsteps that did not belong to the three of them. An electric panel nearby surged, overloaded, knocking Samara to the ground. Shepard's years of training took over, and her body unconsciously dropped to the floor, shielding itself behind the ridge that had previously housed the green control panel.

Just in time, too. A moment later, a platform of Collectors was hovering above them.

"We need a little help here, EDI…"

She turned around to see Garrus help Samara to her feet. Then both of them scrambled for cover behind her. EDI's voice hit her ear, and the AI sounded as… uneasy as an AI could sound. "I am having trouble maintaining the connection. There is someone else in the system."

"Damn it, we don't have _time for this!_" Shepard growled. The Collectors had started raining down fire on their position. She cursed. She _hated_ fighting enemies with a height advantage.

Shepard popped out of cover for a half second, just long enough to get a read on the hostiles' position. The Collector platform was moving, which made everything even worse. She counted three hostiles total. Judging by the swirling light, one of them was in the process of being taken over by Harbinger. She marked their positions in her head and fell back into cover. _Movement at twenty kilometers per hour, which means 6.1 meters per second. Acceleration at five centimeters per second per second. Compensate for entropy, equalize for--_

It took barely a moment for her calculator mind to run the numbers. Then she popped back out of cover, and fired a blind shot at the spot where she knew the first Collector would be.

"Nice shot!" yelled Garrus.

A few moments later, the mechanical whirring stopped. Shepard glanced out at the battlefield. The Collector platform had attached itself to the ground, and the two remaining hostiles were moving on their position. _Shit_. She wasn't sure whether she should be grateful they had given up their height advantage, or worried that they could swarm her squad's position.

Wordlessly, Samara lifted one of them up and out. Shepard watched as the hapless Collector floated through the air, arms flailing and akimbo, body surrounded by a layer of crackling blue energy. She stared at the creature's face. If Collectors could show fear, this one was doing so.

Then Garrus planted a sniper round right between its eyes, and Samara let the dead body drop to the ground.

Only Harbinger left. Good.

"EDI, how are we doing?" she asked between frantic breaths.

The AI responded within seconds. "Connection reestablished. I need to finish the download before I can override any systems."

"Then you'd better get it done fast." Shepard had wanted to throw a few curses in, but she knew they would be lost on the AI.

That was when Harbinger's booming voice erupted, echoing up and down the chamber. "We are Harbinger," it said coolly. "We are your genetic destiny!"

_Son of a bitch… _"Someone shut that _fucking _thing up!" With a thought, Shepard activated her cloak, draping her body in a shield of invisibility. She raised her head up and over her outcropping just in time to see a second hovering Collector platform attach itself to the ground. Three more enemies moved up. But _Lord_, how things were never easy!

They were moving in on her squad -- Harbinger, followed closely by the three new Collector drones. She had to keep her people safe. Counting the seconds, she waited for Harbinger to get close to her hiding spot. Then, when the creature was mere centimeters away from her invisible form, she fired a shot straight at its head.

Harbinger reared back, stunned but still standing. Of course it was still standing. Now visible, Shepard let her sniper rifle drop to the floor. _2.3 seconds to reload… too long_. Instead she swung out her pistol and raised it to eye level, planting five carefully aimed shots on the creature's body. She paused. The light surrounding the possessed Harbinger faded, and the now-empty Collector body slumped to the ground.

Shepard didn't have time to congratulate herself. While she'd been busy with Harbinger, a third platform had arrived. To make matters worse, the three drones with Harbinger had slipped past. Now they were threatening to flank Garrus and Samara.

No, not threatening. They had done so, she realized with dread. "Shields down!" Garrus yelled.

Shepard's stomach tightened. She grabbed her rifle and refreshed its heat sink mid-run. There were more Collectors firing on the far side of the platform, but she didn't care. She felt a few dull thumps against her back. Enemy rounds slammed into her body, repulsed by her shields. She was out of cover. Fully exposed.

This move was… illogical. But she _had _to protect them.

Had to protect _him_.

"Fifty percent," said EDI, but Shepard wasn't hearing her. Garrus and Samara had taken cover behind a rectangular outcropping near the end of the platform. Shepard couldn't see her squad, but she could see three Collector drones filling their position with gunfire. Her breath caught; her body tensed. Garrus and Samara were getting torn apart!

But then she saw one Collector get thrown back violently by a stream of blue energy, its body slamming against the far wall. Another one stopped and slumped to the floor. A fresh sniper hole sat in its head. As Shepard got close, she raised her rifle and blind-fired the third.

But the last Collector didn't fall. Instead, it spun around and locked its glowing white eyes on her. Shepard froze. She'd missed? _What_? She hadn't missed such a close target since… well, before Eden Prime.

She was forced back into action when the Collector opened fire, sending more dull thumps against her chest. _Hell! _Her shields were already depleted from the run back; now they were almost gone. She had in her hands a sniper rifle that she didn't have time to reload. At current rate of fire, she had… 0.7 seconds to find cover before she'd be defenseless.

That was when the corner of her eye caught a swirl of movement. The Collector was dead before she -- or it -- had even realized it. She only got a glimpse of Garrus's head before he dipped back into cover.

Moments later, Shepard joined him and Samara behind the outcropping. "Status report!" Her eyes scanned Garrus's body for signs of damage.

"We're fine, Commander," the turian said.

She took half a second to catch her breath. "You said you lost shields, and I saw the hostiles opening fire on your--"

"We're _fine_, Commander. We had it under control." Garrus studied her carefully with onyx eyes. "What about you? I saw you take some nasty hits right there."

As she glanced at the readout on her helmet, Shepard let out a long and slow sigh of relief. "Kinetic barriers held at… eleven percent." She cursed herself in her mind. _Too close, Shepard. Way too close. Stupid, careless move._

Refusing to dwell on it, Shepard reactivated her cloaking device and got to her feet, watching the enemies on the far side of the platform through her scope. There were four Collectors. Two drones, an assassin, and… son of a _bitch_!

Harbinger.

She scowled. No chance of taking _that_ out with a single headshot. Carefully, she trained her scope over the next biggest threat, the assassin. She steadied her rifle and… fired.

The four creatures immediately trained their attention on her. It was a full second before she realized what had happened and ducked. _God DAMN it!_

She'd missed again. What was _wrong _with her?

Soon, the echoes of gunshots and shockwaves were booming against the walls, resonating up and down the antechamber. Shepard glanced at her squad. "Samara, use your assault rifle and give us covering fire. Garrus… you know what to do. On three."

The turian nodded.

"One… two… three."

On three, the squad leaped out of cover in unison and started running. Samara sprayed wild bursts of automatic fire at the Collector position. Garrus and Shepard simultaneously raised their sniper rifles to eye level. _Right_, thought Shepard. _Garrus always goes right_. She went left, choosing, aiming, and firing at one of the creatures all in under a second. Thankfully, she hit it this time. Garrus nailed his target too. Two Collector drones dropped to the floor, and the two snipers dropped their spent heat sinks in near-perfect synchronization. Samara fired a wave of biotic energy at the Collector assassin that left the creature immobile and in what looked like excruciating pain.

"This hurts you, Shepard," proclaimed the Harbinger drone. Was that… pride in its voice? Shepard looked up just in time to see a blue wave of raw biotic energy ripping through the air.

Heading right for her.

"_Erin_!" She felt something slam hard against her shoulder, and before she knew it, she was on the ground with a dull _thump_. Garrus's powerful frame was hunched over her. The turian dropped his sniper rifle and grabbed his pistol, firing a constant spray of bullets at Harbinger's lit-up form. "We need help, Samara!"

The justicar appeared in the corner of Shepard's vision. "Do not worry. I have it." Samara's body sparked with blue energy, and she launched a powerful shockwave right back at Harbinger. Then she fired a steady burst of assault rifle rounds in the same direction.

After a few moments, the asari lowered her gun. "It is dead." Shepard let out the breath she'd been holding.

Garrus quickly got back to his feet and lowered his arm to help Shepard back to hers. "Are you alright, Commander? I saw that shockwave and I thought…"

"I think I'm fine." She brushed herself off carefully. No visible wounds. "Err... thanks, Garrus."

That was when EDI's voice returned to her ear. "Download complete. I have regained control of the platform, Shepard."

"I knew you wouldn't let us down, EDI."

"I always work at optimal capacity." The AI's voice beamed with pride, moreso than Shepard thought was possible... or was comfortable with, really, from an AI. But after a short silence EDI spoke again. This time she sounded almost... surprised. "Shepard, there is something else. Something I think you should--"

Joker cut her off before she could finish. "Uh… Commander. We've got another problem. The Collector ship is powering up."

Shepard's blood froze. _Of all the fucking…_

"You need to get out of there before weapons come online," said the pilot. "I'm not losing another Normandy!"

EDI said, "I do not have full control of their systems. I will do what I can. Sending coordinates for shuttle extraction."

None of this was good news. But Shepard shouldn't have expected anything less. "Come on, squad. Let's move!"

---

The battle to the exit went much quicker than showdown they'd just had on the platform. Small squads of Collectors repeatedly tried to ambush and attack them, more in an attempt to slow them down than in hopes of actually killing them. Harbinger would pop in occasionally and say a few kind words before someone blasted his face in. The fighting turned into an almost constant, simple rhythm.

Even so, it was clear that Shepard was not on her game. Her mind ran calculations as fast as ever, but her concentration was… off. Too many distractions gnawed at her head. She was spraying sniper rounds all over the place, shooting like a recruit straight out of the academy. She didn't let her mind dwell on it long enough to figure it out… but there was something wrong.

After a few minutes, they came to a dimly lit chamber where the air was uncomfortably still. Shepard moved forward with caution. EDI's voice hit her ear. "I am opening a door on the far side of the room."

"It looks clear, Commander," said Garrus as he scanned the chamber through his scope.

Then she heard it. That reverberating, hellish sound, like hardened lightning scraping against icy metal. A solid blue beam burst into the floor in front of her. Instinct sent her diving for cover. Sure enough, moments later, she saw what looked like a dark and menacing medusa hovering in the air in front of her, its crooked tenticles swaying and its four white eyes fixed on her position. She'd seen this only once before, and that was on Horizon.

"Praetorian!" she yelled at the top of her lungs.

Without a moment's pause, Shepard raised her sniper rifle and sent a round directly into the creature's eye. Dark liquid bounced out; the monster let out a pained grunt. Success. As she inserted a fresh heat sink into the rifle, her mind started running numbers.

_Eye eighteen centimeters in diameter. Time to aim -- 2.5 seconds if quick. Three seconds max of solid beam fire before shields go down. _She took a breath. _Doable_.

A second later, Shepard rolled out of cover, her scope firmly glued to her eye. Her vision became flooded with blue light as the Praetorian activated its beam on her. As she took aim, her eye dropped to the shield meter at the edge of her HUD. It was plumetting straight down. _One second. _She secured the scope firmly on the creature's eye.

But her balance was just slightly off, and she lost it before she could fire. _Two seconds_. The beam kept hitting her. She had to go back to cover. But she _had _to shoot this thing, now or never. Thoughtlessly, she stabilized herself and raised her aim one, two, three centimeters up. She fired. Direct hit.

_Three seconds_.

She instantly became aware of a dull burning sensation in her torso, mixed with what sounded like shredding fabric. Ignoring the pain, she pushed off the floor with her feet and threw herself into cover. When she hit the ground, streaks of pure flame ran down her body. Holy _shit_, it hurt! "I'm hit," she said aloud, glaring down at the spot on her left ribcage where the pain was worst. There was a black char mark on her armor, six or seven centimeters in diameter. The beam had burnt clean through the fiber material. It had reached raw flesh. The skin around her wound was blackened, and red blood poured out freely, like someone had turned on the high-pressure pump.

Her omni-tool instantly sent medigel to the region, the sweet stuff flowing through the cybernetic implants Cerberus had implanted across her body. After a few seconds, the inferno began to die down. The pain was still there, but she had to put it out of mind. "Squad!" she yelled. "Status report!"

"I'm fine, Shepard," said Garrus. "Taking cover behind a small wall a few meters to the left of you."

Good. "Samara, where are you?" No answer. "Samara, status report!"

"I am behind an outcropping near the far wall." The justicar sounded almost… panicked. "The creature is moving toward me, Commander. I need help."

_Shit. _Shepard tightened her grip around the sniper rifle and reached into her off-hand pack for a fresh heat sink. As she felt around for the cylindrical object, she realized that she only had one left. This one had to count.

Activating her stealth cloak, Shepard moved swiftly out of cover. The Praetorian had its back to her. It was floating over to the far wall, heading straight for Samara. She had to turn the thing around and get to its eyes. "Garrus, give it a few pistol rounds."

Garrus did so almost instantaneously. Sure enough, the lumbering mound of flesh turned around in midair, fully exposing its glowing white eyes to the invisible Shepard. She took a breath. She raised the rifle to eye level.

But her finger slipped, and she pulled the trigger too early. The round hit the middle of the creature's body. _Damn it!_

Now fully exposed, Shepard let go of the sniper rifle and grabbed her pistol as she ran. The Praetorian's beam hit the floor behind her. She disappeared into cover just in time. "Samara, it's got its back to you. Now's your chance. Hit it with… everything you have."

She couldn't afford to poke her head out of cover and watch, but she heard an explosion of raw biotic force more powerful and glorious than she could have imagined.

When Samara spoke again, the asari sounded breathless. "I am spent, Commander."

"It's on us now, Garrus." Holding her pistol tightly, Shepard poked half her body out of cover. The Praetorian was about halfway between them and Samara, but its eyes were trained directly on Shepard. It was moving slower than before -- Samara's biotic blast had debilitated it. But it was still as dangerous as ever. Allowing herself only a moment to take aim, Shepard fired six rounds into the creature's fleshy body. To her left, Garrus placed a sniper round straight in one of its eyes. The Praetorian let out a shrill noise of pain.

"I think it's hurt, Commander," said Garrus.

Maybe so, but they needed it dead. As the creature reactivated its hellish blue beam, Shepard took careful aim with her pistol. She squeezed the trigger tightly, and kept it pressed until she had emptied her weapon's entire heat sink into the creature's eye. Then she dropped back behind cover.

After a few seconds of rest, she peered out again. The Praetorian looked like it was in bad shape. It was floating erratically, a few of its wounds spilling dark liquid out onto the floor. But it was still maintaining its beam. Its...

That was when she realized that it wasn't her the creature was aiming at.

"I need help, Shepard!" It was Garrus.

The Praetorian was just meters away from Garrus's position. Its beam skimmed the edge of the wall he was hiding behind. A few more seconds, and it would have a clear shot at Garrus himself. Shepard's heart began to slam against the walls of her chest. Taking a quick breath, the Spectre did something she absolutely _loathed _doing, something she only did in the most desperate of situations.

She grabbed her SMG.

There was no need to aim. This gun was impossibly inaccurate as it stood, and the Praetorian was a big enough target. "Hold on, Garrus!" she yelled, tightly squeezing the trigger. Wild rounds tore into the creature's body. It made a sound that was something like a shrill, childlike scream. But it kept up its beam, refusing to relent. This _goddamn _thing would not die! Shepard fired her SMG to the last round and yelled out in frustration.

Her mind was silent. It had stopped running numbers. Logic left -- there was nothing left to calculate. There was only one thing to do.

"_Fuck _this!"

She didn't bother activating her cloak. Instead, she got to her feet, raised her shoulder and ran straight for the Praetorian. She charged at it with every bit of strength her body possessed, slamming into the creature's armored side with the force of a thousand rounds from the Widow. The impact sent both her and the Praetorian reeling back. Searing pain blasted her shoulder, but she didn't care. She raised her SMG and expelled the weapon's last white-hot heat sink.

Right into her hand.

The cylinder glowed fiery orange-red as she closed her palm around it, 5500 degrees kelvin of raw, searing flame. It burned through her glove in a second and started eating its way through her skin. Again, she didn't care. In fact, she barely even felt the pain as she stared at the Praetorian. It was curious. If such a creature could show emotion, she would say this one was… confused. Its four white eyes looked like they had gone wide with shock.

Erin Shepard raised her hand. She slammed the flaming heat sink into the creature's largest, whitest eye. The creature shuddered; it screamed out and turned a deep shade of blue.

And then it burned away into nothing.


	6. Chapter 6

Not much prepares you for wrapping your hand around 5500 kelvin of pure, searing heat. Certainly nothing had prepared Erin Shepard. Two years of rigorous Alliance training, over a decade of live combat experience, hundreds if not thousands of hostiles eliminated, titles, medals , honorifics through the roof, a dead _Reaper,_ the first _temporary_ trip to the spirit world in human history, and more gunshots and bullet holes and life-or-death situations than any sane person would care to remember… yet nothing in her vast repertoire of life experiences had hurt quite as much as handling a live heat sink.

The flesh on her palm was charred and raw now, with a solid bar of hardened blood running through the center, tracing the shape of the cylindrical heat sink. Every second or so, it sent a pulse of blazing pain across her skin. Like getting shot nonstop by an automatic weapon. It had been that way for most of the 20-hour period since her return.

After killing the Praetorian, Shepard and her team had stumbled the last few hundred meters to the shuttle waiting to take them back to the Normandy. And thank God for endorphins, because she'd been in a haze during the whole trip, barely even aware that her hand had been seared to a level somewhere between medium well and well done. It wasn't until later, when she was walking down the halls of the crew deck, still in mid-daze and with Garrus and Tali and Doctor Chakwas and other open-mouthed faces crowding around her, that she _really_ started to feel it.

After that, well… not even a solid kilo of medigel had been enough.

Now her hand was wrapped under layers of bandages. Doctor Chakwas had cut away a few chunks of skin that were never going to heal, but for the most part, all Shepard needed to do was let her body repair itself. Her hand still hurt -- a lot. But the pain was slowly dying down. As she leaned against the far wall of the elevator, feeling the metal shake its way through its mechanical descent, she raised her hand to her face and slowly wiggled her fingers. The movement hurt, but it came easily enough. She was glad. She'd been worried that she'd never be able to aim a sniper rifle again.

_Aim_. Not like she'd done any of that during the Collector mission. Her mind was still replaying their encounters, straining to figure out why she'd been so off target. After so many years, aiming and firing a sniper rifle was second nature to her, like clapping her hands or typing on a keyboard. She relied on the guarantee that she never missed, fired with 100% accuracy. Shepard's Constant. An integral part of the equations that always ran in her head, and if it was wrong… everything got thrown off.

She'd made quite a few stupid mistakes on the Collector ship. Mistakes she could not afford to make again.

"Err… Commander?"

And once again, she had become so wrapped up in her swirling thoughts that she'd failed to notice what was directly in front of her. The elevator had reached its destination -- engineering. The doors were wide open. And a confused-looking quarian was watching her stare blankly into space.

"Sorry," Shepard said, giving her quarian friend a warm smile. Even with everything that had happened, she was legitimately glad to see Tali. "I'm just a bit distracted. I haven't performed that badly on a mission since… well, since Alliance Training."

Tali promptly started shaking her head. "Badly, Shepard? You killed a Praetorian with a _heat sink_. You bailed Garrus out of a very tight spot, from what I hear."

"Which he was only in because of bad shooting on my part," Shepard said quickly. She raised an open palm to the quarian. "Look, I appreciate what you're trying to do, but I don't need postgame analysis. It was a bad run, and you and I both know it."

"Fair enough, Shepard. I'm honestly a little relieved to know you're not perfect."

_Perfect! Oh, what a riot!_ "Far from it."

She followed Tali through the engineering section's central station, giving Daniels and Donnelly a collective quick hello. Then the quarian led her down a few short, crisscrossing catwalks, their footsteps sending long echoes down the deck's tight spaces. After about a minute, Tali stopped. She knelt down in front of a section of wall that had been removed with surgical precision, revealing all the sleek metal machinery behind it.

"Is this what you wanted to show me, Tali?"

"Yes." Tali tapped the floor next to her, gesturing for Shepard to crouch. The Spectre did so. She began studying all the tubes and gears and instruments that sat tightly packed within. Most of the machinery was running hot, lit up with bright, flickering displays and gauges. But one device, a large metallic sphere about a meter in diameter, had its readouts all dark.

"It's a fairly simple problem, but I wanted to make sure you knew about it before I did anything." The quarian pointed a finger at the darkened sphere. "See this?"

"I'm guessing that's the problem?"

"Exactly. This is a cold fusion cell, one of six installed in various locations across the ship. This is what powers our engines…"

Shepard was hearing her, but, well… she wasn't really _hearing _her. The Spectre's mind was elsewhere. She was back on the Collector ship, her body planted square behind a thin sliver of cover. Harbinger's body swirled with white light. She popped out of cover and shot it once with her sniper rifle, then five times with her pistol. The creature began the long and arduous process of dying. _Everything fine so far_.

Then Garrus's voice hit her ear. "Shields down!" He sounded so panicked, so… scared. Her heart froze mid-beat. Her mind ran silent -- only one calculation, repeating itself over and over again. _Garrus needs you. And you need him. Protect. Protect. PROTECT!_

That was when it had all gone to hell…

"Err… Commander?" Tali _always _sounded so unwilling to interrupt, to cause any sort of inconvenience. Even with her commander staring blankly at into empty space as she explained the problem with the fusion cell, the quarian was the very picture of courtesy. "Are you okay?"

"Damn it, sorry, Tali." Shepard shook her head. "You lost me again."

"Maybe I should just skip the tech speak…"

But she wanted to hear it. "No, no, I'm sorry. Explain it to me. I'll listen. " People often forgot that Erin Shepard had an engineering degree from the Alliance Academy. Sure, she ended up becoming infantry -- and she was _certainly_ no Tali -- but Erin knew her way around advanced machinery well enough.

Of course Tali obliged her. "Well, the cold fusion cell takes material -- liquid hydrogen, mainly, since that's the lightest -- and slaps it with a high-speed wave of free electrons. This eliminates the atoms' repulsive charge and forces them together. They fuse into deuterium. And _that _creates massive amounts of energy."

"Which powers the ship," Erin said, remembering many long lectures at the Academy.

"Exactly. Huge returns on very little investment." Tali's eyes drifted to the darkened sphere, and the quarian brushed its metal surface lightly. "But this one stopped responding earlier today."

Erin felt a dull pain of frustration in the pit of her stomach. Really? Malfunctioning equipment was the _last_ thing they needed right now. "So we need a new one, I'm guessing. Omega's not too far. Would you be able to find one of these there?"

"I'm sure I could, but…" Tali seemed to hesitate. "I don't know if that's necessary, Shepard. I've seen this sort of thing before."

"What, malfunctioning fusion cells?"

"Fusion cells, coolant systems, intake valves… all sorts of things, breaking for what seems like no reason. It used to happen all the time in the fleet." Tali let herself fall into a sitting position and curled her legs close. "Take this fusion cell, for example. It's Devlon make. Model EPC-64. It's a very good fusion cell -- one of the best, even. Say what you want about Cerberus, but they spare no expense on their operations. There's no reason for it to break down like this."

Erin wasn't sure she followed. "Maybe it's a defective piece?"

"Maybe, but I don't think so. I had EDI run some diagnostics before I called you. She couldn't find anything mechanically wrong with it. From what I can see, this very capable fusion cell stopped working for no reason at all."

Nope, Erin definitely did not follow. "So… what does that mean? Can you fix it?"

What happened next was… curious, to say the least. Erin Shepard could see very little of Tali's face through the helmet, and only fuzzily at that. But at that moment, Tali's eyes seemed to brighten in a way she'd seen only three times before. Once on the first Normandy, when the quarian had been talking about her people. Once after the battle with Saren, as she said her final goodbyes before she left to return to the fleet. And on Haestrom, when she realized that the geth were gone, the Collosus was dead... and Commander Shepard had saved the day once again. Yes, Erin knew that look. The Spectre was absolutely certain that her quarian friend was grinning.

"Sometimes, Commander, a paragon of a machine begins to falter," Tali said. "Not because there's anything wrong with it. But because it's not complete."

All those years of Alliance training, all that live combat experience, all those hostiles she'd dispatched and all those bullet wounds she'd taken… that was just barely enough to keep Erin Shepard from reeling back at the implications of Tali's words.

She was incomplete. _That _was the answer. She suddenly knew why she'd been so distracted, why her aim was so off its mark, why she couldn't shut off all the rushing thoughts in her head. It all had a single root cause.

Garrus Vakarian. The final, inevitable answer to Shepard's Constant.

And you didn't need a calculator to figure it out.

When Erin's mind cleared enough to really think about it, she stared at Tali'Zorah for half an eternity. Did the quarian have… any idea what she'd just said? How swiftly and… and _violently _she'd redrawn Erin's perspective? She had to. This couldn't have been an accident. But holy _shit_, those naïve quarian eyes! No. Nobody could have stumbled into such a moment all by accident. Tali _had _to have known what she was doing. She must have picked up on some subtle cue, analyzed some little statement the Spectre had made and realized the significance behind it. Erin often forgot how well the quarian knew her. As well as anyone, really.

Anyone except for Garrus.

With all her concentration focused on Garrus since finding him on Omega, she'd forgotten that there was another worthy of her trust. A certain quarian down in engineering. "Tali…" she said in a very low voice. "Do you have any idea what you just did?"

The quarian perked her head ever so slightly. "What do you mean, Commander? I was about to suggest that we get a Valco-Mendofsky model fuel injector for the fusion cell. If we feed it liquid hydrogen directly, I think it will work just as well as it did before."

No. The quarian was lying. She knew very well what she'd said, and now she was just playing innocent. Well, Erin Shepard wasn't about to fall for it. "I don't know if you realize it, Tali. But you've told me exactly what I needed to hear." Erin lightly placed her good hand on Tali's shoulder and stared straight into her quarian friend's eyes. "I hope I can return the favor one day."

Then she was gone. Every neuron fixed on a single root destination.

Once Shepard had left the engineering deck, EDI's spherical form appeared over one of the nearby console pads, soaking the hallway with a soft blue glow. "Tali'Zorah, I do not understand," the AI said. "There is nothing wrong with any of the Normandy's cold fusion cells. They are all working at optimal capacity."

The quarian grinned smugly to herself. "Not what this was about."


	7. Chapter 7

_Alright, so I know I said seven chapters before, and I wrote seven chapters. But upon further review, I've come to realize that this last chapter works a lot better split. Don't worry, it's all done! I'm putting up chapter seven now, and you'll get chapter eight tomorrow. Enjoy!_

* * *

She found him in the mess hall, sitting alone at the far table, absently running an ungloved hand through what looked like a bowl of dextro-amino fruit salad. She'd only actually seen him eat a few times, but she knew how loath his people to use utensils. They just had no need for them. With sharp and powerful talons more than capable of cutting through the hardest meats, turians simply ate everything with their hands. They had never even invented utensils on Palaven -- save for the knife, of course, but that had served other purposes throughout the species' history. Garrus had been surprised to hear that eating with one's hands was considered rude in human culture. Not that it stopped him.

There were a few other crew members in the mess hall that evening, but she barely had the presence of mind to give them a greeting nod as she headed for Garrus's table. He looked… different. His eye was free of its reticule, and he was even out of armor -- a rarity. Instead, he was wearing a tight and long-sleeved blue outfit, not unlike what turian diplomats on the Citadel wore. And he was pulling off blue rather well.

She slid into the seat across from him. "Up a bit late, aren't we?"

"What can I say? I was hungry." He hadn't noticed her coming, but his eyes didn't show the tiniest flicker of surprise when he saw her.

Curious, Shepard studied his meal of choice. The mixture of chopped-up fruit -- or, at least, she assumed it was all fruit -- ran the entire spectrum in color, from familiar greens and reds and yellows to alien blues, blacks and purples. Some of it looked eerily similar to Earth crops; some of it was so horribly alien that she'd have turned around and run straight out of any market on Palaven that had it on display.

Intrigued, she dipped a hand into the bowl and grabbed something that looked kind of like a white grape. "Don't eat that," he warned. "It'll kill you in five seconds flat."

She knew he was exaggerating. Had to be. Turian food couldn't be _that _toxic… could it? "Are you…" She dropped the dextro-grape back into the bowl with a bit more haste than she'd intended.

The next few moments passed in silence. Garrus continued to claw at his food, but he didn't look even remotely interested in actually eating it. Instead he stared at it with darkened eyes, his face and his body exuding a heavy lack of energy. Finally Shepard could take it no longer. "You know what's funny? For someone who claims to be hungry, you're doing very little eating."

"Yeah, I guess I'm not as hungry as I thought…" He pushed the bowl away softly. "Just couldn't sleep."

She shot him a wide smile as she got to her feet. "In that case, you won't mind giving me a hand with something. Come. Walk with me."

Without waiting to hear his response, she started moving in the direction of the elevator. Garrus lingered back for a little while, but eventually, he caught up and fell into step with her. "What do you need me for, Shepard?"

"Oh, I just want a fresh opinion on something. I'll tell you in a second."

He followed her closely, his tall frame lingering within her shadow. She noticed his eyes drifting down to her tightly-bandaged hand. "How are you, err… recovering?"

"Well enough." They had reached the elevator, and Shepard pressed the button to call it down. "Like Doctor Chakwas said, it looks and feels a lot worse than it is. There'll be some scarring and some permanent loss of sensation, but I'll be fine, Garrus. Rest assured."

"I'm glad to hear it, Shepard." Turian mouths weren't made for wide and warm grins, but she could tell by the way his mandibles twitched, the way his eyes took light and the corners of his mouth became ever-so-slightly bent, that he was giving her one right now. "You saved me again, you know. Thanks."

"No need. Permanently even, remember?"

That was when the elevator chimed and the doors split open. As they both walked through the tight threshold, his hand accidentally brushed against her bare arm. The touch alone was enough to send soft sparks of electricity jolting across her skin. "Now then," he began, "what did you--"

But for the second time in just over as many days, Erin cut him off by throwing the full weight of her body against him and kissing him.

Garrus's back slammed against the metal wall of the elevator with a hard _thump_. He growled, though whether it was a growl of pleasure or of pain she couldn't tell. She reached around and placed her good hand on the back of his neck, brushing and tracing it against his silver-iron skin as she took a second to send the elevator up to her quarters. Then she started running her tongue against his teeth like last time, pressing her body tight against his, feeling the soft fabric of his casual clothes give way to hard, sinuous skin. Her fingers made it to the end of his neck and started tracing their way down the edge of his fringe. The elevator stopped and the doors slid open. She began to lead him out in her arms, stopping just short of the closed doors to her quarters. And all the while, she kept going, kept painting his teeth with her tongue, nibbling lightly against the ridges of his mouth. More and more and more and she wanted _more_!

But he didn't react like last time. He wasn't parting his teeth -- he kept them clamped shut. Hell, his hands were still at his sides. His body stayed rigid.

"Erin, slow down!"

His words pierced the soft veil that had formed over her senses, hitting her mind with jarring _slap_. Her eyes fluttered open and her hand dropped; she pulled her lips away in shock. _What an idiot! _She'd just jumped right in like last time, brazenly assuming that this was what Garrus wanted, that he was ready for it… that he'd forgiven her for what she'd done the first time. She wasn't sure just what to say. "Oh, shit, Garrus, I'm… if you don't want…"

Then, for the first time that night, Garrus touched her. He placed a single hand on her hip, soft yet strong, sharp yet protective, squeezing yet molding against her skin. "You know this is what I want, Erin. You're the closest friend I have in this galaxy, and I feel… a lot for you." He stared at her, studying her face with sharp onyx eyes. "But you need to be sure it's what you want. I'm not someone who likes to get led on, and I _don't _want a repeat performance of last time."

At that, her eyes dropped. She'd really made a cosmic mistake that day in the comm room. She had very nearly thrown their friendship -- or whatever this was -- completely off its axis. But Tali's words still rang loud in her head.

"You know, Garrus, for someone with a mind as quick as mine, I can be a real moron at times." She drew a bit closer to him now, drinking in his dark eyes. "But a friend of mine shot some wisdom my way tonight." Smiling warmly, she said, "I'm a machine, and I'm not performing to specifications. But I'm not broken. I'm just incomplete."

Garrus blinked once. "Huh?"

"It means I need you, turian!" She raised her good hand and grabbed his, running the soft skin of her palm against him. The sensation of it made him shudder and blink. "I just ran one of the worst missions of my life, and it was because the logical part of my brain had realized what the rest of me hadn't. I'm just…"

She looked away. Even to Garrus, she hated admitting her own mistakes. "I'm just so used to seeing everything as an equation," she stated. "My own life is one big flowchart, a long string of inequalities, every decision a quantified zero-sum game and I just pick the side that has the bigger number. What I want and what I need are so often diametrically opposed. And frankly, it gets so _easy_ to fall into the rhythm of selflessness, sacrificing the things you want almost implicitly because you want them."

She looked up at Garrus, eagerly meeting his eyes. Garrus, the anchor, the rock, her most loyal warrior and her most trusted friend -- she needed him. How the _hell _had she managed to get it wrong last time? Lips quivering, she said, "Sometimes what you want really is what you need."

There was a second-long pause, and it was both the shortest and the longest second of Erin Shepard's life. "So what are you saying?" he asked.

Good question. "I guess I'm picking up where we left off in the comm room. I told you I'd explain it all soon, remember? Backing away that time… I made a mistake. A calculation error."

"A calculation error?"

She shrugged, crossing her hands over her chest as an amused smile threatened to creep across her face. "Sorry if you're not satisfied, Garrus, because that's the best I've got."

And then Garrus was against her. He embraced her, wrapping strong and powerful arms around her slender frame, nudging his head against her neck and nuzzling her softly with his nose. His mandibles were grinding a bit too hard into her skin, but she didn't care. She threw both arms around him, ignoring the flare of pain in her bad hand. He raised his head, and she took the opportunity to bury hers in the crook of his neck, breathing hard against solid skin. He pulled her body close against him. She could feel the heat of his skin. She could feel his heart beating against her chest, pulsing in perfect mathematical unison with hers. Had she taken the time to think about it, she would have realized just how incredible that was, especially considering the fact that they were two different species with vastly differing average heart rates and neurological responses. But as it stood, she didn't think about it. Her usually razor-sharp calculator mind had flooded with too many pleasure neurotransmitters to be able to.

He held her in his tight embrace for a long time. Exactly how long she wasn't sure. It was tame compared to what they had been doing in the elevator, or the other day in the comm room. But in a way, it was that much more sensual.

Eventually, she pulled away with a warm and affectionate grin. "Follow me," she whispered, grabbing his hand and yanking him with her into the captain's quarters.

Garrus walked in slowly, keeping close to her, taking in the sight with intense curiosity. He had to admit, there was something… enthralling about being here. The very top of the Normandy. He could have snuck his way in here a long time ago had he wanted to, but of course he never did, and this was the only section of the Normandy SR2 that he was yet to see. Fitting, he supposed. He had never much liked human tastes in interior design, but he had to admit, Cerberus had quite the flare for modern style. Or had it been Shepard herself?

"This place looks… nice," he said, trying to distract himself, force away the nerves plaguing his mind. What _was _she doing? What was he _supposed_ to do? If she was planning what he thought she was planning… then he had no idea how to proceed.

Erin laughed softly. "I'm glad you like it." Then she led him down a few short steps and sat down on the black leather couch in the corner of her room, patting the material once to indicate for him to join her. Never one to disobey a direct order, he carefully sat down beside her.

His eyes started scanning room uneasily as he thought about what to say. "I have to admit, Erin, I… don't know what the protocol is here. I've never even considered cross-species intercourse, and--" he quickly bit his own tongue when he realized what he'd mindlessly blurted out. _Garrus, you gaping moron! _

"Stop worrying, Garrus," he heard her say.

Well it just wasn't that easy. The nerves were intensifying, as was the confusion. He still wasn't sure what this… _was_, even, or what he was supposed to do. "Err… I've got a bottle of wine," he said quickly. "From Illium. It's down in the main battery. I could go get it for you… us…"

But then he heard a series of soft mechanical clicks. He turned around, realizing, to his complete and utter shock, that she was no longer sitting beside him. "Uh, Erin? Where did you go?" Was this some strange human ritual that he'd never heard of? Find the lady before you… well… "You are still here, right?"

"Oh, I'm here," came an amused and disembodied voice. He quickly scanned the room for its source, but then he realized what was going on. Shepard had activated her stealth cloak.

"Erin, what are you doing? That cloak only lasts for ten seconds."

He heard the unmistakable sounds of rustling fabric. "Actually, it's twelve point five seconds," she said. "And that should be… just… long… enough."

When she rematerialized in front of him, there was a pile of clothes tossed on the floor behind her. And she stood there proudly, wearing nothing but her omni-tool.

Garrus's jaw dropped. "…Oh."


	8. Chapter 8

Erin Shepard woke up fifteen minutes early. Like everything else, her sleep cycles had fallen into perfect rhythm over time, honed by years of rigid schedules and the tuning of internal biological clocks. No matter what time she ended up falling asleep, she _always _woke up at _exactly_ Oh Six Hundred. That day she'd overslept had been a rare exception. This morning was another.

She was instantly made aware of Garrus's soft breathing beside her, of the warmth of his naked body against hers, the covers on the floor, the strong yet tender grasp of his arm around her. And she couldn't help feeling like there was something so abnormally… right with the universe. It was like all the planets had aligned, like Planck's Law and the Gravitational Constant had shifted just for her, gravity had lightened and the air had been imbued with just a bit of extra oxygen. She could hear the soft rumbling of the mass effect core below her, and she could have sworn that it was rumbling a _little_ harder than normal. Just for her. With each warm turian breath that hit the back of her neck, the electricity buzzing around her was amplified, like she was walking deeper into a metaphorical field of lightning rods.

For so long, she'd been sure that acting on her feelings for Garrus would be stupid and impossible, not to mention disastrous. But it turned out it was the easiest thing in the world. Neither of them had had any idea what to do last night, but their bodies had come together just as naturally and implicitly as their emotions. It didn't matter that it was so new to them. Both were nervous -- hell, going stealth and then disrobing in front of _anyone_, even Garrus, took as much insane courage as charging a krogan mercenary head-on. But all that fear, all those nerves… it had all slipped away with his first tender touch. Instinct and trust guided the rest of the way. Of course. She never should have doubted it. Like everything else when it came to Garrus Vakarian, this too had just slid into place.

She sighed a full and peaceful sigh. It was fifteen minutes to Oh Six Hundred, and she didn't want to get up.

So instead, she hung her good hand over the edge of the bed, thoughtlessly activating her omni-tool. Her eyes had become accustomed to the darkness, and the device's sudden orange glow made her shut them reflexively. They took a few seconds to recover. Then she started going through the same procedure she went through every morning.

_Messages… empty. Automated ship scan… all systems check. Crew reports… solid. Position… 392 LY from Rosetta. _After his twisted attempt to justify sending them into a trap, the Illusive Man had given Shepard the coordinates to a recently-discovered derelict Reaper, with the idea being to find and steal its IFF. She wanted to get the IFF and go through the Omega 4 Relay as soon as possible. But there were still loose strings to tie. And with the Gernsback's SOS signal suddenly appearing in the middle of the Rosetta Nebula, she knew that Jacob Taylor would be highly distracted unless they took time to investigate it.

As she scanned through all the reports in her omni-tool, she felt Garrus begin to stir. _Damn it!_ She quickly deactivated the omni-tool. She hadn't meant to wake him.

"Don't bother, Shepard. I saw it."

With the lightest of chuckles, she turned herself around, coming face-to-face with her now fully awake turian lover. "Sorry if I woke you."

"Shh!"He placed a single talon on her lips, soft yet commanding. "You need to stop apologizing so much. You don't owe me an apology for anything." He reached over and took her good hand in both of his, running the tip of his talon down her forearm, scratching her skin ever-so-softly. A bit of heat from the omni-tool remained. "You workaholic."

"There are things that need to get done," she said lightly. "But they can wait another fifteen minutes."

After a short while, she saw his eyes drift shut again. She took the opportunity to reactivate her omni-tool -- behind her this time, so Garrus wouldn't catch it. With deft fingers, she accessed her room's climate control system and dropped the temperature six, seven, eight degrees. The air around her immediately cooled.

"A little cold, isn't it?" She chuckled softly, pressing her body even harder against his, burying her head underneath his chin and softly nuzzling the skin of his neck. His heat warmed her cold body like a wonderfully burning fireplace, sending soft chills crawling up and down her spine.

Slowly, she traced the lines of his face with her fingers, delighting in the look of pleasure in his eyes as she touched him. Her hand wandered to the back of his neck, and he started to emit a low and constant hum from deep inside his throat. The corners of his mouth bent in another thrilled turian smile as she reached his silver fringe. She ran her nails down its surface, stunned at how cool and metallic and smooth it was.

"You like that, don't you?" He gave her a longing look. "My fringe."

"I… it's beautiful," she said, finding herself a bit lost for words. "I mean, it's always been something that intrigued me about turians, but yours is the most beautiful one I've ever seen. Silver against the light." She smiled. "Now that I'm actually feeling it… I didn't know it was so smooth."

He chuckled softly. "That's because it's not living tissue. It's completely made up of dead skin cells."

"Just like human hair," she remarked. "Funny how something long dead can be so beautiful, huh?" She ran her finger down the tip of his fringe, stunned at how razor-sharp it was. "Wow, I bet you could cut someone with that."

"Ancient turian societies used to cut the fringes off of dead individuals and use them as weapons," he said quietly. "Took us a while to realize how much easier it was to make our weapons out of metal."

She laughed softly, curling up even tighter beside him. "Well, yours is beautiful. Almost as much as your voice."

"Shepard, you _really_ know how to seduce a turian," he said. He was probably smiling again, but she didn't see it. She had let her eyes drift back to shut.

It was easy to drift off in his arms. Everything felt right, all the gears kept clicking and all the systems were running like never before. It was like nothing could go wrong. They still had insurmountable challenges to face, and once they went through the Omega 4 Relay, there was a good chance none of them would come back. But all that was out of mind right now. Because here and now, she couldn't have felt scared if she tried. Fear and worry were not words that existed in the common lexicon.

She was a shielded woman, and she didn't like expressing such emotional thoughts out loud. But somehow it felt right to do it now. "Thank you, Garrus," she said softly, delighting in watching him slowly open a single onyx eye. "I had long given up thinking that something like this was… even possible, really. For broken people like me, nothing ever comes easy. Especially if it involves trusting someone else." She chuckled, though it wasn't laughter but tears that were threatening to break through the surface. "But this… it's the easiest thing in the world."

His eyes were open now, and he was running hands through her golden hair, delightfully scratching her scalp with the tips of his talons. "It's still incredible, and a little scary, just how similar we are, Shepard," he said, as his scratching made her close her eyes and let out a low and constant sigh of pleasure. "I was the same way for a long time. My father, the military, C-Sec -- all I've ever known is rigidity. I've had people at my side that I could rely on, but never anyone I could trust so implicitly." His hands stopped moving, and she opened her eyes just in time to see him bring his head together with hers, resting softly against her forehead.

"Until now," he whispered. Those last two words sent electric shockwaves across her body.

The rest of those fifteen minutes passed exceptionally slow. But it still wasn't enough. If she could, she would have frozen time. Eventually, however, she brought up her omni-tool and scanned the time. "Alright, it's Oh Six Hundred, Garrus." She started to pull away, reluctantly moving her body out of bed. "I have to go."

"Don't."

His words were sudden and shocking. He grabbed her wrist with his hand, holding her tightly, not letting her move. He stared at her with wanting and desperate eyes. "Don't. Stay here. We're in the middle of deep space and I guarantee you that everything is _fine _on the Normandy." His eyes fell away, and she saw traces of… was it sadness in his face? "Stay here, Erin. Just for a little while. We only get a few perfect moments in life, and we can't afford to waste them."

Deep down, she knew he was right. She didn't want to leave. And she knew the Normandy would be fine without her for another few hours. "Alright, turian, you win." She curled up against him once again. "You got me to stay. Now what?"

She saw a devious look come over his eyes, and his mandibles tightened. His face was threatening to break out into laughter.

"You're a creep!" she exclaimed playfully.

He threw an arm around her body. "And you _love _it."

That was when the darkened room filled with soft blue light. Shepard and Garrus both squinted their eyes. EDI's spherical form had appeared on the console pad in front of them, and Shepard couldn't help feeling like the AI was staring, incredulous, at the naked human and turian bodies in bed together in front of her.

But when she spoke, EDI sounded as vaguely robotic as ever. "Commander Shepard, you are receiving a message from Miss Daniels and Mr. Donnelly in engineering. They do not wish to disturb you, so if you'd prefer, they can speak with you through the comm system."

Next to her, Garrus was sitting up, mandibles flaring in a mixture of surprise and anger. "Wait, this thing has access to the _captain's quarters_?"

Erin shrugged. "Of course. The Illusive Man wants to keep an eye on every part of the ship.

He seemed to reel at those words. "…_Illusive Man_."

"Yeah. That's one of the reasons EDI is here, so that the Illusive Man can keep track of what we're doing."

Garrus looked absolutely shell-shocked at the news, his claws digging into the soft mattress. He glared at EDI with cold and furious eyes. "You mean to tell me that you and the Illusive Man have been watching us since--"

"I assure you that the Illusive Man is not aware of your activities last night, Officer Vakarian," EDI said. "Nor was I, until a few moments ago. I do not make a habit of spying on the commanding officer. The private matters of the crew are nobody's business but their own." EDI seemed to rotate just a bit, angling herself toward Shepard. "Now, Commander, would you like me to connect you with engineering?"

Erin turned to Garrus with apology written all over her face. "I need to hear what they have to say, Garrus…"

"I know, I know." He brushed her hair lightly, once. Then he glared at EDI. "Connect us. And get the _hell _out."

Without a word, EDI disappeared.

Shepard gave her a moment to establish the connection, and then she said, "Engineering, this is Commander Shepard. What do you need?"

It was clear that Daniels and Donnelly were in mid-bicker when their voices begain to come through. Ken was in the middle of rattling off a laundry list of thinly-veiled flirtatious insults when Shepard's voice cut him off. "Oh, Commander. So sorry…"

"Good work, Ken," said a very acerbic Gabby. "Commander Shepard, _I _didn't want to disturb you, but Ken insisted. There's a tiny problem with one of the Normandy's docking clamps, and Tali's still asleep, so…"

That was where Ken took over. "Basically, there's a fuel buildup in one of the outer pipes, and it's blocking the electromagnetic transmissions that the computer sends to make the docking clamp activate. Deuterium is a horrible conductor, especially if it's negatively ionized like ours. The excess electrons make the resistance shoot up like a--"

"Ken!" Gabby scowled. "Let's speak English for Commander Shepard, maybe? Commander, all you really need to know is that we'll have to be careful when docking. It may take a few signal shots before the clamps decide to activate." There was a short silence. "See, how hard was that, _Ken_?"

Shepard couldn't hold back a few soft chuckles. "Thanks for letting me know. I'll go down there in a little while to take a look at it."

"Thank you, Commander," said the voice of Ken. "And _Gabriella_, next time, remember that Commander Shepard has one of the sharpest minds in the galaxy. Sharper than yours, I bet. She could probably understand me better than you do half the time."

"Ken, that's not a compliment. That's an insult to the Commander."

Shepard gave Garrus a long, somewhat amused look as the two of them rattled on. "Disconnect," she said softly, and silence filled the room once again. She settled herself back against the curve of Garrus's body. "Sometimes I see those two and I feel like I'm looking in a mirror," she said after a bit, giving voice to the musings in her head.

"What do you mean?" he asked, sounding genuinely interested.

She chuckled. "Just look at them. They're just like we used to be -- the perfect platonic best friends. Endless stories, lots of jokes and insults and playful flirting that they both know won't ever lead anywhere. They work perfectly together, perfectly in synch." She sighed softly, letting her breath slide against his skin. "Yet they need each other."

After a short pause during which he mulled over the implications of her words, he asked, "What makes you think that?"

"Well, just look at their history. They went through the Alliance Academy together, served together on the _Perugia_. When Ken signed on with Cerberus, Gabby had to follow. Just like she said, he'd fall apart without her."

"So they're close--"

"--And do you ever see them apart? Think about it. It's like they're joined at the hip. Every time I go down to engineering, there they are, chatting and bickering like it's the easiest thing in the world."

She breathed in heavily, relishing in the cold air around her. "I think they love each other," she said. "They just haven't realized it yet."

Garrus gave her an absolutely devious look, his mandibles flaring out into the widest grin she'd seen yet. "Did you just say you loved me?"

"That's not what I--" _Oh, damn… _She really had just walked headfirst into that one.

Without really thinking about it, she brought her hand up to his face and started tracing the lines of blue tribal paint, running her fingers down his mandibles, feeling the muscles tighten reflexively under her soft touch. He seemed to purr. "Well, Garrus, you're the best thing I have in my life," she said. "I dragged you to hell and back, and you didn't even hesitate to follow me. You're the one I trust unconditionally. You've kept me sane, kept me laughing, kept me warm through the darkest of nights. Nobody else could have done that." She smiled and planted a single soft kiss on his mouth. "So yeah… I suppose I do love you."

_Holy shit. _That had come about more… suddenly than she'd expected.

"He won't realize it," Garrus said quickly, his muscles going tense again as he stared past her, into the distance. "Ken, I mean. He's grown so comfortable with the idea that she's just a friend, just a partner, that once this is all over he'll be fine without her and it's not worth it to gamble on their friendship now." His eyes had darkened again, and he stared at Shepard fiercely. "He's an idiot, and he won't realize how much he needs her until she's gone."

"Is that what it took for you, Garrus?" she asked, smiling wide at his words.

The turian exhaled sharply.

She ran a finger across his lips. "Well, if that's the case, then I guess my death was worth it."

* * *

**A/N: **Well, there you have it. My twisted take on the Shepard/Garrus relationship. I had a great time with this piece, and I hope you all got something out of it as well. Big thanks to BioWare for creating such a rock awesome game universe and giving us characters that we can fall in love with. Big thanks to everyone who read and reviewed, as well. It's your words that keep us writers going when ours aren't flowing like they should be. Protip: If you ever find a story that you love, the best thing you can do to make sure it gets finished is read and review it!

As for Erin Shepard, well... she really stole the show here (at least in my mind). This fic may be over, but Garrus and Shep's story is not. Rest assured, she'll be around. Muahahaha.**  
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